Things I Need To Remember

But I need to delete them form my phone too.

cuz secretly. youre the biggest pothead in the world. youre always smokin a blunt, and you dont even notice. you popped outta the womb, join in mouth
-May 2nd.
Your grammar is horrendous, but this made me laugh(:

you told me never to promise you anything. but just take my word i wont forget you
-May 31
Somehow that means quite a bit...

Okay. This is a whole conversation.

"FWD: Question. Are you and Keven gonna date? <-Really? Now what have I done to get this?"
"Who was that from?"
"Who do you suppose?"
"Thats weird"
"Now I have to deal with this nonsense on top of Tayler stealing my pants."
"Its honestly none of her business. I cant stand when people get into other peoples relationship situations"
"It sort of is... I am her best friend... You are her ex..."
"True. I just dont like when people pry"
"I just don't even know why she's asking me this right now."
"Yeah, its weird"
"Now I'm worried she's actually thinking like that."
"I would hope not"
"I really hope she's not..."
"Why would she?"
"Hold on. I'll forward you the message she sent after I was like, 'Why would you think that?'"
"okay"
"FWD: He seems to really like you. You talk non stop. It's just the way we were right before we started dating."
"1. I dont talk to her about you. 2. I dont talk to her barely. 3. When did it become her business
Sorry if i sound like a dick"
"You don't. And I don't know when it became her business. I'm not sure it is."
"Its not."
"But I can't tell her that."
"I know i know"
"I'm really not even sure what I was supposed to say to her."
"What do you mean?"
"Like, I don't know what I was supposed to say to make her not think that. I feel like no matter what I say, she's going to think that."
"Cuz that is what she'll do. She'll tell you she believes you, but she wont"
"I'm the same way. It's like when I ask her if she wants me to not be friends with you, she says she'd never ask me to do that. But I know she really wants to."
"She probably does want that"
"I'm not sure if it's that she doesn't want us to be friends, or if it's that she wishes you and her still were. Does that make sense?"
"Yes, it makes sense."
-June 16.
Fantastic, right?

After telling me he was kidding about telling me to hush
"I should hope so. It's kind of weird to not talk to you. Sorry if that sounds awkward or strange."
"It doesnt sound like that lol. I feel the same way"
-June 22.

I think that's it. Everything else is in my other blog...

Byeee.

Damn it.

Damn it all to hell.

I miss you. The old you - the one that laughed with me, and was nice to me and was my best friend. The old you, who told me his problems and asked me to fix them, and even if I couldn't, he'd be happy that I helped him. The old you, who would parent the others and rule them like they were a kingdom. The old you, who would talk shit with me about idiots. The old you, the one who never called me names, or made me feel dumb, or anything. The old you, who knew everything about me.

I'm not supposed to miss you.
You're not supposed to pop up in my thoughts like this is a game of Hide and Seek.
This is supposed to happen to me.
I'm supposed to feel in control.
I don't.
I'm not.
This is bad.

.

I'm running, feet pounding hard against the concrete, sending strikes of pain through the bottoms of my bare feet. I can barely breathe, my lungs are doing double time. The air around me is cold, but I hardly feel it anywhere except my ears.

Sounds. I can hear sounds errupting behind me but I can't turn and look. I have to keep running. It's dark, very dark, where I am. I can hardly see. I know I'm not going to run into anything though. Who would be out this late?

You're out this late. My brain responds. Stupid wit.

I'm slowing down. No, I have to keep running. Faster. Faster. The woods are up ahead. I can see the outlines of the trees, the only thing visible beyond the black of this town. Leaves begin crunching under my feet and the soil is wet, I'm getting filthy. What about my clothes? What am I wearing? Is there something in my hands? Why aren't I aware of anything.

The sounds are closer, no time to investigate appearances now. I veer off, weaving circular patters. Am I trying to throw someone of my trail? Are they tracking me with scent?

Yes was the immediate answer. I'm feeling light headed. There's an open field ahead. Just get to the field.

I collapse in the wet, leaf covered grass. The smell makes me gag, I still can't breathe. My heart is pounding, my lungs screaming for air, my head throbbing. I only close my eyes for a moment. My hands are in front of my face.

Heels. I'm holding a pair of strappy black and white heels in my hands. There's jewlery draped on my wrists and on my fingers. Am I dressed up too?

I try to stand, but slip on the leaves and fall. A dress. I can see the dress now that I'm sitting up. White with a black bodice and corset. Pixie-like. Tight against my torso, falling out of line and flaring out where it meets my waist. Beautiful.

It's then that I realize I'm crying. I know I'm going to die.

The man was over me suddenly, his eyes the color of the harvest moon. His features were animal like, almost like a dog.

Someone I couldn't see commands attack and he's on me, tearing my apart. I can still feel all the pain...

Granny.

The room was entirely white, the walls, the high ceilings, the plush carpet flooring.
There were no windows. No doors.
I was sitting in the precise middle, my knees drawn up to my chest, staring at the tips of my bare feet. I was clothed in all black from my jeans to a long sleeved shirt. My fingers were entwined as I waited, listening to my own battling thoughts as usual.
"BooBoo?" an old, weak voice called.
Looking up, I studied a figure. I took in her aged, smooth feet. Her loose white pants and long sleeved shirt. Her hands that stuck out from the long material, wrinkled and fragile, her fingers tapered- a former pianist's hands. And finally her face, unwrinkled like every other woman in her family, just visibly aged. Her smile was full of her original teeth, straight but yellow. Her usual bloodshot eyes were welcoming, warm. A warmth I hadn't seen in any one's eyes in a long time shone brilliantly through hers. My heart sang.
"Granny?" I questioned, still unsure if she could really be standing there.
"Yes, Katydid. It's me." Her voice was hoarse, like she was out of breath. I smiled and stood. "Well come on. Hug me." I embraced her, feeling her body heat against my palms. She clutched my back, pulling me toward her.
"I've missed you," I whispered in her ear.
"You're so much like your mother. No wonder they call you Little Libby. Always preoccupied with 'I miss you' and such. We haven't got time for that right now. It's almost midnight and I'll have to get on to bed."
I simply smiled as she let me go. "Why are you here?" I asked, trying not to sound rude.
"What? I can't come see my great granddaughter?"
I laughed. "Come on now, there's like 40 of us."
"Oh I know. Your heart just kept tugging for me and I thought I'd pay you a visit now that I can collect my thoughts. I know you've been upset these past few weeks, so what's wrong, dear?"
"There's so much Granny. So very much..." I trailed. She gestured and stuffed white chairs appeared, as though she were a magician.
"Well, sit. Let's talk."
"Are you sure you've got the time?"
"I've always got time for Libby's youngest."
"Okay, if you really want to hear it."
"I do." We sat and she gestured again, tea cups appearing in our hands. I smiled.
"I'm not sure this a tea and crumpets type of talk, Granny."
"Oh pish posh. Every talk is a tea and crumpets talk."
I laughed.
"I don't know where to start," I frowned.
"Start with the boy."
I'd been staring into my tea and swirling it with the fragile silver spoon resting in it. I flicked my head up. "What?"
"Oh don't be silly. I've been watching you up there," she pointed to the sky, "and I know what's been going on between you and the small one."
I gave her a smile. She'd been watching me. Out of the hundreds of people she could have watched, she'd been watching me. As if reading my thoughts she said, "Like I said, that little heart of yours has been nagging me."
"Well, he used to be my best friend."
She sipped her tea and nodded for me to continue.
"And I didn't approve of dating the girl he's dating again."
"Did something happen with them before?"
"She broke his heart." I stared into my tea again.
"So you were right to disapprove. But what else?"
"I yelled about it."
"That was wrong. You should have kept it to yourself."
"I know that now."
"So, what was your consequence?"
"He's not speaking to me."
"I see. And this upsets you?"
"Sorta. It really hurt at first but I'm past it."
"Are you?"
"Mostly."
We smiled and sipped our tea.
She didn't ask anything for a few moments, as though she were pondering over something.
"Tell me about the redhead."
"Tayler?"
"Yes."
"She used to be a good friend."
"Is that all?"
"No..."
"What's happened with her?"
"I've developed an annoyance of her."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. It's like I can't ever stand to see her. She's always saying something to make me feel bad about myself, or make me angry. She's said things that were bragging and she seems to always be telling me to just get over it. After what I've done for her when Josh dumped her... I just can't stand her."
"And who is Josh? We don't really get names up there."
"Joshua is one of my friends. You've probably seen him. His the one that acts nice to me."
"Acts?"
"Yeah. I think he's only pretending to be friends with me."
"And why do you think this?"
"He's been different lately. Changing. It's almost like I'm being avoided. He only talks to me when it seems necessary. Lunch. That's pretty much it."
"Oh. I think I know who he is."
"Yeah..." The tea in my hand caught my eyes again.
"I don't think you need them very much. If they're going to act this way- treat you this way, maybe it'd be best if you just forgot them. The first boy especially. He doesn't listen to you, his loss. Don't let him run back to you if she drops him like a hot potato again."
I smiled. She was always so good at making me do that.
"Thanks, Granny."
"Now. What's been going on with the last boy."
"Which one?"
"The one with the brown hair and the sweet smile."
"I don't know who you're talking about."
"The one your mother likes so much."
"Oh. Connor? What about him?"
"You've been spending a lot of time with him."
"I know." I was getting confused now.
"Are you okay with that?"
"I used to not be, but I am now."
"Why do you think that is?"
"I don't really know. Because I guess I lost one of my best friends and Connor's starting to look like a better one."
"Finally, you see what your mother's seen all along."
"Hm?"
"Nothing, dear, nothing." She smiled. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "We've only got a few more minutes, darling."
"What time is it?" She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply again. "11:52."
"Oh. What do you want to here about next?"
"Your parents."
"Oh..." I frowned.
"Are they fighting again?"
"Mom gets mad over every little thing he does. He spends time with Paul, she gets mad. He doesn't know what he wants for dinner, she slams doors. He gets dirt on her clean floor, she screams. I'm always sitting there when she decides she wants to point out flaws that she shouldn't be so angry over. She's always screaming at me about him, as though it's my fault that he's not the way she wants him. I keep hearing it and I can't make it stop..."
Tea swirled in my cup, fascinating me again.
"And you're stressed out over it."
I nodded.
"You're worried they're still on the edge of separation aren't you?"
"So very worried..." I whispered.
"You shouldn't be worried. Things will work out, fall into place. Don't worry about those people you've been fretting over. In a few years what will they mean to you? Will you need them then? Do you even need them now? It seems that if they don't need you and can't treat you the way a human is meant to be treated, then ignore them. You don't need anyone that's going to cause you so much pain." She closed her eyes. "I love you, Kay, but I can't stay." She stood and began backing away.
"Wait! What time is it?"
"11:59, Katydid, 11:59."
"I love you, Granny!"
"Remember, they aren't worth the trouble! Not even that boy and his girlfriend. They won't last, even I can see it. I'll see you soon, BooBoo. I'll-"
My eyes shot open and I rolled over to look at the clock.
12:00 it read in yellow-orange letters.
She always did go to bed at midnight.

Dreaming Memories Again

You were positioned on my shoulders. There were people around us but it didn't matter. "Think about what's on your neck," you laughed. I cringed but smiled. We were having fun. My mom pulled up next to us and laughed. I could tell she thought we were silly.
-
Guitar is playing in my ears. I can't see yet but I can feel the column on your front porch against my back. "It's a beautiful day..." Your voice is filling my ears as the scene comes into play. It's close to summer. This was a long time ago. I'm smiling and you're thinking. I wished I knew what you'd been thinking about.
-
Summer. I feel like I shouldn't be there but I know it's still early. You're sitting in my lap, playing some skate game. I can't focus on what we're talking about. I'm thinking.
-
You're standing before me. How many times are my dreams going to start this way? We're in front of my house. My heart is racing. I have my house phone in one hand and your cell phone in the other. No. My mind is screaming.
-
You're singing and pretending to strum imaginary stings on a broom. I'm sweeping. This is the first time you've spoken to me. "Do you have any black nail polish?"

Sometimes...

...I wish you weren't my sister. I wish I didn't know you. And I most certainly wish you wouldn't do this to me.
"What are you talking about? He came right up to me and hugged me tight!"
My first thought: you fucking cunt! are you trying to make me cry?
You're so mean to me. I don't know why I deal with it. It's like you know what hurts me the most and you use it against me. You know I'm upset that he's not talking to me. You know it upsets me that I haven't hugged him in a really long time. You know it all upsets me yet you go and do this.
I wanted to cry on the bus. I almost did but I couldn't.
Where's the point in crying when there's no one there to comfort you?
Although I'm pretty sure Alec would have tried to make me feel better.
I guess that's okay, but I don't want Alec to be the one to comfort me.
I don't want to need to be comforted.
I want things to go back to how they were before he started dating her again.
Did you know I can't even say his name out loud?

Dream

They stood before me, their hands knotted behind them, their feet bound. Ropes twisted about their waists, holding them firmly against trees. Neither of them appeared very afraid.

She was actually smiling. This angered me and I pulled the knife I'd been concealing from my pocket. The silver blade was long and it sparkled in the moonlight.

As I lifted the blade to my face, my murderous eyes reflected in it, shining grey and burning with a raging fire of fury. Holding it close to my nose, staring into the steel, I ran my finger along the sharpened edge of the blade, careful not to nick my skin. Your smile dropped.

I turned to him, the knife now by my side. His smile was fading to a frown as well. His hazel eyes were widening to the size of teacup saucers. Finally, my victims were afraid. I smiled.

"The moon is up, the stars are bright. The wind is fresh and free," I recited, unaware I'd remembered the lines of that poem. My sadistic smile was still present as I said, "Such a pity the sky had to be pretty night you died." His eyes seemed to widen a fraction more. "Such a pity she won't be," I whispered, pointing the knife at her. She whimpered, the tip of the steel only a few inches from her nose. "You believe she's so perfect? Let's mark her imperfections shall we?" The words were ice cold and designed to cut the soul.

A small step brought me toe to toe with her. "First," I said, raising the knife, "your eyes. You think they're so beautiful. They're lifeless and dull. It's like you have no soul." The blade sliced a millimeter into her skin, the tip resting in her flesh next to her left eye. Blood began dripping from around the blade. "And they're always so... big." My wrist flicked, the blade was drawn to her eyebrow. "Oops." I laughed. I picked up the knife and held it a little ways from her face. She began to cry, her tears mixing with her blood. "And why, might I ask, are your pupils always so dilated? It's really not pretty." The knife touched her flesh again, this time next to the right eye. My hands shook, the blade left a jagged line leading to her temple. Blood poured down her face like a cheesy stone fountain people put in their homes.

"Next? Your chin of course." The blade traveled down the dent in the middle of her chin, the cuts deeper this time. I continued working the knife close obvious imperfections, each slice deeper than the last, all worthy of leaving beautiful scars. Her nose, slightly off and too small for her face. Her mouth, small, line-like lips, yellowed teeth. Her acne, trails along her forehead, nose, and jaw line. Her hair, a gross color, thin, never quite right, all haphazardly cut by my tool.

Still her soulless eyes stared at me, wet with tears and blinking blood out. "You always were more afraid of being ugly than dead. Now your face will always be scarred!" I cackled, my breath leaving me in little white clouds. The air had obviously chilled but I hadn't noticed past my adrenaline filled veins. "Even in death you'll be hideous. How does it feel to know that the person that loved you the most will have this picture of you in his mind as I kill him?" She closed her eyes. "HOW DOES IT FEEL?!" I laughed. Tears were streaming with the blood. His eyes closed.

"Open your eyes!" I shrieked to them both as I moved to stand before him. they both obeyed. His breath was also leaving his mouth in white bursts. His eyes appeared more brown than hazel in the moonlight. I would miss those eyes. I cackled at the thought. "Watch him die!" I screamed to her, watching the clouds spurting from his mouth with each exhale. A cloud. Intake of breath. Cloud. With one intake the blade was pressed against his soft flesh. With a cloud of carbon dioxide the edge dipped into his skin and I drew it across his neck. Blood spewed from the slit. I stepped away just into so that not a dropped touched me. It steamed as cold night air rushed over it.

Realized.

I woke up this morning from a strange dream. Well, not so much a dream as a flashback in my sleep if that makes much sense. I was seeing the sixth grade. I was seeing who I used to be. I was that dork kid that hung out with whoever she'd known forever, not really having a social clique, just moving from childhood friend to childhood friend. I was the kid that when someone said my name someone else went, "Who?" I was weird and out of place. I didn't talk to people or stand up for myself. I was only slightly sarcastic, never harsh. I did every bit of my homework instead of hanging out with friends.

I've come to realize that when the seventh grade started, I found the one person I could stand the least and latched myself onto their social group and changed myself to fit in.
Maybe I don't like who I've become anymore, but I can't go back. It's not possible and I know it. Deep down, I wish I could go back to being a nobody so that I wasn't caught up in drama.
I wish I could go back to when I didn't know you and I didn't cry a lot.
I wish I could send back the hands of time to when I was naive and hated people I talk to now.
I just wish things weren't this way anymore.

You Told Me You Slept With Her

I dreamt early this morning about you.
I wasn't screaming this time.
And neither were you.
You were talking about her though.
And you know that annoys me. Because I hate you being so happy with her.
Anyway, you were talking.
And smiling.
And laughing.
I wasn't hearing what you were saying.
I never do when you talk about her.
I try to block it out.
It's not important to me.
We were standing in the kitchen at your house.
I was leaning against the island and you were against the sink.
Your mouth was moving, I was looking around.
Things were exactly as I saw them when I used to go there.
A tv was playing somewhere.
Probably the living room.
A cat was swirling about my feet.
Then you said "sex".
I was listening then.
"What?" I asked.
"I said, sex with her was amazing."
"You slept with her?"
My heart was pounding.
"Well, yeah..."
My entire body was shaking.
"Is that bad?" you aked.
"No. It's fine. You guys love each other. Other than the fact its a sin I don't see anything wrong."
I could feel the lie passing through my lips.
Each word was a dagger on my tongue.
I was shaking uncontrollably.
I felt as though I couldn't breathe.
As though someone had punched me in the stomach.
"Anyway-" you started.
"I have to go."
"What? Why?"
"I can't stand to be near you right now," I whispered.
You couldn't hear me.
You still looked confused.
"I just do."
"Okay. Bye," you moved to hug me.
I backed away.
You frowned.
Something in your face showed me you knew something was wrong.
"I love you," you tried.
"No. If you loved me you wouldn't have told me."
"I do love you, Kayla."
"Not as much as you love her."

Dreaming.

I'm dreaming about sad things again.
Not just scary or fun.
Not even thought inducing or a sign.
They're coming in flashes.
Bits and pieces.
Not jammed together or connected.
Barely even related.
I hate them.

*
crying.
i can feel the tears streaming.
you're dead.
blood on my hands.
*
your eyes are sparkling in the lighting.
your smooth skin is streaked.
i know its my fault.
i can tell by the knot in my stomach.
*
my parents are screaming.
i hate you's are flying.
fists are colliding with skin.
my skin.
i can feel my bones crunching.
they're beating me.
i've done something wrong.
*
i can't breathe.
there's no air here.
no light either.
its totally dark.
i'm choking on the carbon dioxide trapped inside me.
i'm dying.
i'm praying that it happens quickly.
*
i hadn't seen you for a while.
you look different.
your face is shaved.
your eyes are younger, happy.
skin smooth over your bones.
you look beautiful.
you're yelling too.
your mouth moving rapidly.
telling me i wasn't there.
telling me i didn't say good-bye.
"i was there!" i'm screaming.
and screaming.
and screaming.
you're not listening.
you can't hear me.
you're too far gone to hear me...
*
blonde hair.
i'm holding long dirty blonde hair between my fingers.
freshly cut.
the ends are sharp.
there are scissors in my hands.
i can feel air on my neck.
my hair is destroyed.
cut.
gone.
"your mother will be mad," you're saying.
"she'll be very upset with you," you keep repeating.
"I can't believe i just did that," i'm muttering, letting the strands fall from hands.
*
your holding bobby gene.
his red ear is in clutched between your small fingers.
you're wearing a devilish grin.
i'm crying again.
i can feel it.
i'm looking around for something to stop you.
a bitchika type nose reaches my ears.
you're holding a lighter.
flame is licking at my bears feet.
you're burning him.
the most precious thing to me.
you're burning him.

that's pretty much from the past few days.
since i dreamt i was yelling at that one person...
i'm losing my mind.
i might be dreaming these things because i lost bobby gene...